Lots on today, so I’ll not be hanging around and rambling as much as I have been. So, what can I tell you?
Yesterday, two of the regular day-trip boats came over on their first visit of the summer. I heard the first one and saw the second, and both gave us a great long blast of their claxons to let us know they had arrived as they came into the bay. Later in the day, I happened to look out of the window, and there was the Panagia over at one harbour, the Express coming in, the big red speedboat thing going out again, the Sebeco, and then the other day boats (Sea Dreams, Nikolaos X, and the yellow one), and it looked like any regular summer-season day. Still didn’t see many visitors in the village square later, but our neighbours are back to their holiday home in front of us, and we know of others who are due to arrive soon. So far, it looks like the dangerous fake-tan fake across the pond hasn’t managed to affect the Symi visitor season, but time will tell.
I know we’re feeling the effects of wrong decisions in our pockets already. The price of a jar of coffee went up €0.50 last week, along with many other things, and our basic shop for a week is now starting to look like we’re on a strict diet. You don’t put certain items on your shopping list these days; you put them on your Christmas present list. Mind you, it helps to hunt around and compare prices. For example, in one supermarket the other day, you could pick up a can of tomatoes for €0.30 cheaper than the can standing next to it, even though they were exactly the same make and model, but I think that was a question of price labelling gone wrong. One of the things that tends not to happen around here is pricing vegetables. There’s none of that ‘3/6d a pound, love, lovely plums’ coster calling, not even any pieces of card stuck in your box of Bramley’s at an odd angle warning you of what to expect at the till. Not that you could without any scales to weigh them in first, but I’ve never got on well with weights and measures much anyway. ‘Can you get three pounds of potatoes when you go shopping?’ No, because I don’t know what three pounds of potatoes looks like. ‘Oh, then one and a half kilos.’ Even less chance. I’ll buy six of the things. Probably five, actually, because they’ve no doubt gone up fifty cents while I’ve been wittering.
Yes, things have always cost slightly more here because of the age-old excuse of things having to come in by boat, but apparently, it costs more to leave. An old story, but a friend once bought a ticket over for X amount of ready money, and then bought a ticket back the same day, and going back was more expensive than coming in. ‘Why?’ she enquired, to be told that ‘You have to pay more to leave behind this beautiful view.’ Typical local charm, but makes little sense. A bit like me at 05.00 in the morning when my mind is still in the other room, and the mosquito bite on my finger, which woke me up, is still sore. I must have a word with Roger, the common rock lizard currently lodging behind our sofa. He’s often out and about prowling for them during the day, but I’ll ask him to take on a night duty too, at time and a half, of course. Oh, and talking of lizards, the pair of turtle doves is back in the village square, which has nothing to do with lizards, common or otherwise, but is, at least, a piece of local news.
